Life's Mirage
by Kidagakashantelast
Summary: After the fall of Carmilla's castle, someone still lives. Can D help them overcome their new situation? Or is it too late already?
1. And so It begins

Life's Mirage  
  
I do not own VHD;B but I really wish that I did...  
  
It was dark and cold...everything hurt. He tried to move, damn, that hurt worse. He managed to sit up slowly, leaning against a cool smooth surface, which eased the throbbing ache in his skull, and attempted to get his thoughts in order. "Where am I?" He asked into the stillness, surprised by the sound of his own voice, it sounded thick and slow, like he'd been drugged or something, he decided to blame it on the pain. He paused for a few moments thinking hard... "No idea. Start with something easier... who am I?" It was easier to speak out loud, the hope that someone might hear him; combined with how well it kept his thoughts on topic encouraged the behavior, besides the more he talked the easier it became, so much less forced. For a terrifying two minutes he was at a complete loss, then he found it. "Oh yeah... I'm Borgoff...Markus, that sounds right." He still couldn't stand and only one eye seemed to be working correctly, he tried to come up with a reason for why that might be. For the time being he decided it might be a good idea to just check for broken bones, he slowly moved his left leg, then his right. They trembled from exhaustion, but seemed fine. Then he tried the left arm, good that worked fine too, fingers and all...now for the right. He couldn't move it. Hell, he couldn't even feel it; his shoulder hurt a hell of a lot though. Borgoff craned his neck gently in order to get himself into a position where his good eye could take in what the damage was. "Holy shit!!!!!" His arm was gone! Not, broken or mangled but damn freakin' gone!! Damn...that explained why his shoulder burned so badly.  
  
Wincing from the pain, Borgoff managed to stagger to his feet about ten minutes later, still leaning against the wall for support, he looked around. It struck him suddenly...where he was...Chaythe. "I'm still in the castle?" He asked in surprise, staring at the once finely sculpted walls and pillars, now mostly broken and, well, trashed. He was struck again by a very odd sensation that something wasn't right, aside from his arm...something was out of place. Oh, well. He could see the remains of a staircase spiraling away on his right and a deep hole at least two floors down. "How'd I get up here?" He asked softly, the last place he remembered being was...the basement... He shivered unexpectedly; just the thought of the basement made him feel terrified...no idea why though. "Did I get hurt down there or something?" He asked, feeling lost. Hadn't he come in with someone? Yes! "Leila?" He called, but received no reply...was she ok? He switched on the transmitter in his ear. "Leila?" Static. The moon shone clearly over the crumbled remains of the castle now that over half the roof was gone, suddenly he stiffened, the moon? He and Leila had gone in during the day...he must have been out for a long time and- His eye widened before he began making his way down the half staircase as fast as he could. "Grove!"  
  
Cursing himself for stupidity, Borgoff finally dropped to the ground, clear of the pillars and doors. Where the hell was the stupid tank? He spotted it off to the left; it looked slightly battered but not enough that it was truly damaged. He raced toward it as fast as his shaking limbs would take him. "Grove! Can you hear me? Grove?" Wrenching the door open with his remaining hand, Borgoff clambered in, still calling his little brother's name and feeling panicked. Was Grove asleep? Why didn't he answer? Stupid dark! He managed to switch on a light up front that still worked, and turned. "G-grove?" Grove was hanging off the bed at an odd angle, the jolt the tank had received from a falling pillar had knocked the corpse sideways a bit and the end result was that the two skinny arms had snapped like twigs as Grove's body fell halfway off the bed. His eyes had closed and the silver hair hung in a small curtain around his face, the empty syringe lay about three feet from him on the floor. Borgoff stood motionless for a few seconds, unable to accept what his eye showed him, before he shot over to his younger brother. "Grove! Grove, dear God! No! No....Grove..." Borgoff's voice trailed off into a soft wail as he awkwardly lifted his brother up and cradled him against his chest. Burying his face in the soft silver hair Borgoff shuddered for a while, calling for all of his little brothers as loss drained his soul, then he just cried.  
  
After about an hour Borgoff stood again, he carefully replaced Grove on the bed and stroked his hair, whimpering soft apologies over and over again as tears continued to stream from his good eye. He made as though to walk up front before stumbling in reverse into the bathroom in the back and proceeding to vomit his stomachs contents. After that unpleasant experience had run it's course he washed his face in the sink, then looked up into the mirror, to try and see what was wrong with his eye, and froze. "What...?" There in the reflection was the back of the door, the toilet, and the edge of the sink...but... Borgoff's mouth fell open as the information took a few seconds to register, then he grabbed both sides of the mirror and shook it, demanding more. "WHERE THE HELL AM I??" He shrieked in panic, gazing at the mirror from all angles, trying to locate his reflection...but to no avail. He sank to the floor, terrified, as his hand flew to his throat. Nothing, he moved it across the jugular vein, still nothing, then onto the left...there, two puncture wounds... "No..." He whispered. "No...no, I can't..." He shook his head in denial, this couldn't be happening, it was impossible; he was a Markus brother for crying out loud! He raced out of the bathroom to the front of the tank. He tried the review mirrors, the lights, even that stupid pocket mirror that Kyle used to carry around...nothing. "I-I'm..." Borgoff let his voice trail off. "A vampire...?"  
  
He was driving, it was pitch black out and Borgoff was glad the headlights still worked, he was heading for that bridge again...the one where Kyle... Before leaving Borgoff had checked around out front, searching for any sign that Leila might still be alive. He found her communicator, lying in the dirt; around it were her footprints...and a horse's. That Dunpeal must have offered her a ride or something...he hoped she was still all right. Memories had cascaded back through Borgoff's mind while he had been coming to terms with his new situation. Kyle's death, the loss of his eye to that damn barboroi, he and Leila abandoning Grove, those false hallucinations of his brothers in the basement, the pain in his back...in his neck. His hand moved up to massage his throat again. He remembered how that damn vampiress had crammed him into a corner of his own mind, nearly forced him to kill his adopted sister before...Grove. Grove looking so sad, pain...that was how he'd lost his arm, Grove hugging him, Grove whispering his older brothers' name softly and pressing his face to Borgoff's chest lovingly, his features twisted in emotional agony and then... He had flown backwards from the explosion, probably straight through a wall, then he must have blacked out. He drove carefully over the bridge, avoiding the holes that he had put there with bombs only yesterday, before reaching the other side.  
  
Borgoff stepped out of the tank and walked slowly over to the patch of disturbed earth. Kyle's grave. He was shocked to find that there was a small bouquet of blue flowers lying on the top; and allowed himself a small smile as tears began running down his face again. "Leila...you always did like flowers didn't you?" Sure enough back around the front of the tank, he found hoof prints, and Leila's footprints...she had stopped the Dunpeal just for Kyle...that was unusually sweet of her. He re-entered the tank and emerged a few seconds later with a shovel, and began awkwardly digging a new resting place...right next to Kyle's. Grove would've approved he thought; Grove and Kyle had always been so close. An hour later he went back to collect Grove. He ran his fingers through the silver hair one more time and scooped the frail form up against his chest, then headed out.  
  
Some time later he stepped back to observe his work, the two graves now had small headstones, each with their owners names carved clumsily (Borgoff was not left handed) onto them...he glanced at Kyle's again and decided that Grove would have wanted some flowers too. He chuckled softly as he remembered. Grove always wanted whatever Kyle got once, when Grove was seven and Kyle was ten, he had bought Kyle an ice cream cone and even though Grove had been complaining loudly for a hot dog for the past half hour he had immediately switched his order to ice cream...same flavor and all. After a short search spent lost in memories, he found what he had been looking for, a small patch of the same kind that Leila had picked for Kyle. He reached gingerly down to select one...and gave a cry of horror when it withered and died instantly from his touch. He couldn't help himself, he cried again, for a long time. Finally he managed to make a small cross out of wood (half expecting it to melt or something) and placed that on Grove's resting place instead of flowers.  
  
Driving again, the sun had just barely begun to peek over the horizon and Borgoff felt oddly light headed. It happened so suddenly that he didn't even have time to realize what was naturally going to occur. "Oh my God!" Borgoff cried as his arm burst into flame. "Shit!" He raced to the windowless bathroom and slammed the door shut, turning the water on full blast and dousing his arm. Breathing heavily, he sat down on the floor with a thump, nursing his burned arm and hissing in pain. "Oh, so now I can't even go OUTSIDE?!? Does someone think this is funny or something?!?" He shouted and cursed for a while until realization started to sink in...he couldn't go outside during the day...ever. "Damn..."  
  
He'd always loved sunsets too...figures. Staying locked in the bathroom for fifteen hours wasn't exactly fun, but it was better than the alternative seemed to be. "I've been a vampire for one day an' I'm already contemplating suicide..." Borgoff grumbled when it was finally safe to come out again. He quickly put the tank in gear and worked on moving it to a less conspicuous spot. His conscience wouldn't leave him alone. All day it had made him feel sick with the seemingly thousands of opportunities that might possibly have presented themselves so that he could have saved his family. The most obvious being to have never taken the job from that maniacal bastard, Albourne...him and his snotty kid. "Hope he's havin' a damn good laugh over this." Borgoff growled, feeling a strong sense of hatred that he didn't recall dredging up on his own.  
  
After a long while he managed to find a cave that went far enough into a hillside to hide the tank. "Finally," He muttered. "The night's too short all of a sudden..." He felt exhausted and hungry; bending over he grabbed a sausage from under the seat, managed to unwrap it, and bit off a hunk. He was shocked when it literally turned to ash in his mouth. Uttering a cry of disgust he spat the damp dust out. Then stared at the sausage in disbelief ...felt like it was laughing at him...hell, felt like the whole world was having a good laugh at his misfortune. A deep gut instinct told him to go out and chew on somebody, but he beat the feeling down with revulsion, no WAY was he killing anyone. He wasn't going to damn himself! Not that he wasn't already or anything... Feeling horribly depressed, Borgoff slumped over the wheel and whimpered to himself for a while. He felt desolate, abandoned, and lonely and it had only been one day! The sun was already rising. No good...over soon then...  
  
Leila jumped down off the horse, hitting the ground with a soft grunt before gazing upwards at D. "Thank you." She said, giving a soft smile as she brushed her bangs out of her face. "You didn't have to bring me here, but I sure appreciate it." The Dunpeal nodded gravely, he was preoccupied, having had the strangest sensation that they had been followed the whole time. "You're welcome," He murmured in his usual monotone. "Will you be all right here?" Leila felt surprised that he had even asked. "Yeah, I'll be fine, this is a nice big town I'm sure I can weasel a job off of someone." She replied, usual cocky grin in place. D felt reassured for her safety, she was a tough human, she would be fine. "Then I must go." Leila looked somewhat saddened by the suddenness of the closure. "You sure?" She asked. "Couldn't you just stay for a little while?" It suddenly struck D that she must be feeling an enormous amount of loss, which made her vulnerable. Even though he had split the reward money with her, she needed emotional care as well as financial. "I'll visit." He said reluctantly, turning his horse back the way they had come. "But now I have other business to attend to." Leila looked placated by this statement and waved goodbye until he was out of sight...then she looked for the nearest bar, and bought a beer.  
  
D rode his horse hard and fast along the road he and Leila had taken to Garucia. He was sure they had been followed, but as of yet there had been no sign of anything. This naturally made the Dunpeal paranoid; he was continuously scanning the sky, half expecting an ariel attack at any moment when he found them. Tracks, big ones too from a large vehicle, they veered off to the right and seemed to be going in the direction of the hillside caverns. "What is it?" a voice asked from D's left. "Tracks..." D replied sounding bored when really his thoughts were racing...those marks looked so familiar... "See if you can make anything of them." The Dunpeal murmured, pushing his left hand down into the tracks. A few moments passed as the hand muttered to itself, sounding more and more agitated as each second passed. "But-but! This is absurd!" The hand spluttered. "Why?" D asked, still trying to sound unconcerned. "These are the same markings that the competition's tank made!" D stood, and gazed off toward the hills. "I thought so..." He whispered. Left hand snorted in annoyance. "You're not gonna bother going to look are you?" It asked incredulously. "I mean come on! It was bad enough for you to share money with that- that...girl. Tell me you aren't gonna waste time lookin' for that stupid tank, that someone probably stole, when we could be getting ourselves a new quarry?" D didn't bother to answer; he simply mounted the horse and headed off in the direction of the tracks.  
  
Borgoff sat huddled in the back of the tank, attempting to get some sleep. He had passed out for a while apparently, because it looked like it was getting dark at the cave's entrance. He reached forward to grab the blanket, which had fallen off, and did a double take. "Wha?" He had reached forward, out of habit, with his right arm...and the damn thing was there! "How the hell?" Borgoff asked the silence in amazement as he cautiously moved his fingers then the whole arm. "So they do regenerate..." He muttered, still marveling over the renewed use of his arm, when he noticed that his vision wasn't off either...his eye was back too. "Wish humans could do that." He murmured, feeling amazed. "Be damn helpful..." He stood slowly, still feeling terrible. He really was starving, but what was the use thinking about it, he had already decided that he wasn't going to kill anything...even if it meant dying...probably better off dead anyway. He stumbled out of the tank and surveyed his surroundings. A small stream off to the left, and just rocks to the right. "Oh, wonderful..." Borgoff muttered sarcastically. "I really wanted to spend the rest of my life in a hole..." He had just moved towards the stream when his legs trembled violently and collapsed. Panting, Borgoff heaved himself upright and dragged himself back towards the tank, he always felt better when he was on it...it was his home after all. "I'm not dying out here..." He whispered stubbornly to himself, as he managed to shut the door and crawl back to his former position in the corner. "Damn I feel sick..." He whimpered, curling up into a ball. "Please, no more. I wanna go home." He whispered, as tears began running down his face again. "I-I want my family back...I just wanna go home..." 


	2. Past events

Life's Mirage  
  
I do not own VHD;B but I really wish that I did...  
  
Many thanks to my reviewers! All four of you! (Chels and Laura, I'll thank you personally)

Kenshin no sakura: Thanks Colleen! Here's chapter two! You might like it more!  
Blackjackkat: Thank you! Your review means so much to me!

Lucidscreamer: (bows) I really appreciate your advice, sorry about that, I tried harder on this chapter. Forgive me and thank you for your review I hope you continue to read.  
Stega: Thank you! Please read on!

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D tied his horse's reins to a small gnarled tree in front of the hillside caverns. There was loads of fresh, damp grass and flowers spread around and the android equine felt perfectly happy to obey his master, for once, and didn't try to yank the restraints apart, but began munching away on the delectable treat. Winds whipped D's cloak playfully from side to side as he observed his immediate surroundings. The tracks from the tank most assuredly disappeared inside...and did not come out again. Well, at least that meant he knew where to find it, there was no exit except the entrance, so there was no where else whoever it was, could be. The sun had begun to set; thankfully, the day had been horrendously bright and sunny...disgusting.  
  
"D! Please, let's just leave!" Left hand cried again. The Dunpeal stared down at his complaining appendage with distaste.  
  
"I told you," He muttered. "A human thief wouldn't come all the way out here...I want to see who- what, it is." He strode purposefully into the caverns.  
  
Left hand continued to mutter savagely as it had done all the time D had ever known it, therefore making the sound easy to ignore. It was dark inside, and pleasantly cool reliving D from the day's strenuous heat and refreshing him a bit. The trail left by the tank went a far way inside; whatever was controlling it didn't like the light... D drew his sword.  
  
"Hey, whoa! What'd you pull that thing out for?" Left hand sounded agitated, the stupid little pain-in-the-rear. "What's in there? Something horrid I'll bet! Were not even being paid! Just turn around and leave. Ok?"  
  
D did not respond. Anything he said now would be twisted by the parasite into something dreadful, better to just keep quiet. The floor of the dank interior was covered by a thick layer of moss in most places, which had the doubled respectable effect of keeping his quarry's trail visible...and silencing his advance. Moving forward slowly, the Dunpeal kept himself alert for an attack of any sort. He expected a minor barboroi of some kind, something that would see the tank as being an addition to itself and perhaps even its status if the vehicle still contained weaponry. A vampire would surely see the thing as cumbersome and useless, so no worries there...but some minor barboroi had terrible poisons... There it was, about twenty feet to his left, the tank looked more battered and dented than before but otherwise in good condition, whoever had stolen it had been lucky...until now, still the fool would deserve this death for not being intelligent enough to clean up its own trail. D readied his sword arm, and moved towards the door.  
  
Leila woke up slowly. She felt confused for a moment when she glanced around and saw the unmoving inside of a rented room, instead of the normality of the jostling walls of the Markus's rover. Her memory slowly drained back and she pressed her face down into the pillow, attempting to suppress a sob of loneliness. Her family was gone! Again! This was the second time she had lost a group of loved ones to vampires, first her parents...and now her adoptive brothers! She couldn't hold the tears back any longer, and cried to herself for awhile. The huntress remembered how kind they had always been to her, especially Grove...she'd give anything to have them back. She missed talking to Grove and Nolt (who had been a surprisingly nice conversationalist when he felt up to it), Borgoff's ever- present smile of encouragement and his stupid accent...hell; she even missed Kyle being an ass hole!  
  
"Damn it, Kyle!" She cried, slamming her fist into the sheets. "I even miss you! So why won't you guys come back?"  
  
After about ten minutes she had dried her eyes and cleaned herself up. The previous day she had purloined some more normal clothing from a lecherous traveling tradesman by flirting with him. She had then dragged him out of town, beaten him up, and stolen the clothes but no one needed to know that. Sliding open the dresser into which the new outfits had been unceremoniously stuffed, Leila chose a simple lilac top and a blue embroidered skirt. It took her a further ten minutes to figure out how the shirt tied in the back and how to layer the skirts.  
  
Staring at her reflection in the mirror Leila found it to be decisively odd looking. She hadn't worn clothing like this since Kyle had dragged her to a party once (She still hadn't forgiven him for that) telling her she had needed to be more social. It had been a flop party and Leila had ended up storming out after being felt up by some random guy, stopping only to bitch- slap Kyle's smug face by the door. She grinned, it had always been strangely fun to fight with Kyle...sibling rivalry was normal, wasn't it? No, wait...that hadn't been the only time...Grove had asked once what she looked like in a dress, and seeing as his brothers were all out at the time, she had obliged and changed into her mother's old outfit...he had said she'd looked beautiful. Grove always had something nice to say, he'd never put her down once, maybe that was why she had always felt so close to him. Too bad that dress had been ruined that time that a lizard barboroi raided the tank...she would've liked to have it to remember...  
  
Leila sat back down on the edge of the bed, assaulted by memories, one in particular stuck out...the day that the Markus's had accepted her into their family. She had come only asking for a job, considering that no one else in that town would hire her. Seeing as it was her parents the vampires had taken, she was always under scrupulous surveillance by the men in the town, and it had only been the fact that she was a fifteen-year-old girl that kept them from throwing her out of it. A year after they had stoned her mother to death, a rouge group of werewolves had begun raiding the place nightly, so naturally, three days later the Markus brothers had arrived. Leila had watched them working with awe as they took out every werewolf in less than an hour, with none of them even injured! She had immediately raced over to them and begged to be allowed to go with them.  
  
Leila sighed heavily, they almost hadn't allowed it. Kyle had collapsed into a fit of raucous laughter at the suggestion, Nolt had just stood there looking uncomfortable, and Borgoff had started telling her it was too dangerous for a little girl.  
  
"I was only four years younger than Kyle, Borgoff..." She murmured into the silence, eyes closed as she lost herself in memory.  
  
She probably wouldn't have gone if it hadn't been for Grove. He had been so much healthier then, nine years ago... He had still been thin and always looked a little under the weather, but he had been as fast as Kyle, and his skill with a rapier had been unmatched. He'd had red hair then too, and worn an outfit that greatly resembled Nolt's only with more of a shirt beneath the vest, and worn his red hair in a small ponytail than draped back across his shoulders. She didn't know about his spiritual powers back then, didn't find out until he was forced to start using them as his only weapon, five years later when his illness set in. He had smiled one of his kind, genuine smiles and suggested to Borgoff that they give her a chance.  
  
Kyle had immediately begun protesting, and Nolt had voiced a few complaints, but Grove had always had his way as long as he'd made his suggestion to Borgoff...he was such a pushover when it came to his youngest sibling. Borgoff had given in nearly immediately and before she knew it she was being taught (oddly enough by Kyle) how to handle a large and fancy gun. She had proved herself to be quite good with her selected "instrument of doom" and had been pulled into the family faster than she would have believed possible. Leila smiled to herself and wiped her eyes dry again, before standing and walking out, in search of a job.  
  
D slowly opened the door, careful to keep it from creaking. He made his way up the three steps with as much caution as he could exert, still hadn't made a sound...good. There was a large shape huddled in the back, perhaps it was asleep? The Dunpeal snuck closer he was nearly on top of it when the creature cried out softly in its sleep. D froze.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong?" Left hand whispered worriedly. "Just stick the damn thing and lets get out of here huh?"  
  
D slowly re-sheathed his sword and walked over to the side of the tank, found a light, and switched it on.  
  
"Dear God!" Left hand cried. "How the hell did he get here?" D was wondering the same thing, as he stared down as the prone form of Borgoff, who was still shivering and whimpering softly on the floor. "What are you gonna do now?" The parasite persisted. "Just do what I said! Kill him and let's go!"  
  
The Dunpeal couldn't. He knelt down and lifted the other's chin, two bite marks, he was a vampire then... D drew his sword again, and began to raise it when Borgoff woke up.  
  
The oldest Markus brother sat up abruptly shivering, only to find a sword at his throat...out of one nightmare and straight into the next.


	3. Onslaught

Life's Mirage  
  
I do not own VHD;B but I really wish that I did...  
  
Many thanks to my reviewers!

Strega: Thank you for your review! I really appreciate it! Glad you like the fic.

Kenshin No Sakura: Thanks Colleen! Reviews please me so! I hope you like the twist in this chapter!

Blackjackkat: Thanks for the review, tell your friends! (heehee!) Please read on!

Angels Have Gone: Thank you Kate! I hope you find this chapter intriguing.  
  
D tightened his grip on the sword handle, he must be relentless, he could not give in to emotion and let this- this vampire off where others had not been spared. It was so strange, the Dunpeal had never remembered having any problems with killing these creatures in the past...so why now? His conscience told him why, the former Markus brother was not acting like a newly converted vampire. They were incapable of feelings, of sadness, of fear...they couldn't resist killing. Yet this one had not killed, there was no scent of blood, no red tint to the eyes, no random corpse/zombie things coming to attack him from behind... everything about him spelled human except for the two marks on his neck, if D hadn't known better...he might have tried to see if they were staged.  
  
Borgoff trembled, trying not to swallow lest his throat be impaled. He couldn't move away, there was no space on either side of him, and his back was placed firmly against the wall of the tank...there was no where to go... Hell, did he even want to go anywhere? Not really, not anymore.  
  
"So, what're you waiting for, Dunpeal?" He whispered, waiting for the pain that was to come...to die a second time. He was afraid...afraid to die now, he hadn't killed, but he was a vampire. Borgoff couldn't identify with what that might bring for the future...was he damned or not? Heaven or Hell? The sword was removed from his jugular.  
  
Borgoff glanced up. What was the damn fool doing? Why didn't the Dunpeal kill him already? He was surprised when D slowly crouched down in front of him, looking as confused as the elder member of the Markus family felt.  
  
"Why are you here?" D asked haltingly, staring straight into the others eyes, searching for some hint of savagery that could serve as an excuse for murdering him. The Dunpeal could not find any. "What are you?"  
  
Borgoff looked away, great, now that he wanted to die the damn hunter was gonna quiz him! This was not expected or welcomed!  
  
"You tell ME what the freakin' hell I am! You'd know better than I would!" Borgoff snarled, he didn't feel angry, really, just scared, what the hell was the Dunpeal gonna do to him? Take him out to burn? Borgoff sincerely hoped not, it had been bad enough when his arm had caught fire...he didn't want to know what it felt like to be consumed by it. His thoughts almost immediately turned to the vampire he and his family had been hunting. What was his name...Meier? Borgoff suddenly felt ashamed, he and Kyle had laughed and taunted Meier as he'd burned...desperately trying to reach the Albourne girl...Charlotte. Was this his comeuppance or something? Now he had to feel what it was like to be tormented like that? D's voice snapped him back to the present.  
  
"What?" He asked, "Sorry, I-...wasn't... listening." D thought the man looked as though he was going to burst into tears; naturally he then tried to steer clear of that reaction, and asked what he thought would be a simple question.  
  
"I asked, when was the last time you ate something?" The Dunpeal repeated patiently.  
  
Borgoff looked stricken, "When- when I was..." He broke down.  
  
"This is stupid." Left hand muttered quietly. "I've never heard of a crying vampire...there must be something wrong with the freak, D, just kill him. Ok?" D ignored his complaining body part, and instead patted the man on the back, reassuringly.  
  
"The last time was when you were human?" D asked softly, receiving a whimper of assent from the trembling creature in front of him, before Borgoff drew his knees up against his chest and suppressed sobs, shoulders shaking. D nodded complacently, stood, turned, and walked away.  
  
Leila moodily washed the next batch of filthy plates and silverware that had just been placed in front of her. This was just plain retarded. Of all the people she tried to snag a job from this was the only one she was "qualified" for huh? Well, damn them! She thought angrily, taking out her irritation on a plate, and accidentally cracking it in two.  
  
"Shit!" Leila cried in despair, that was gonna come out of her paycheck! She'd used her half of the money D had left her with to buy a home, but now she needed food! "Arrrrgh! Why me!?!" She asked the poor, pitiful, snapped plate. "Why did you have to break on me!?"  
  
"What's going on back there?" Her manager, Dickinson, asked, sticking his head around the corner questioningly.  
  
"Nothing YOU need to know about Dick-the-prick..." She muttered under her breath before calling, "Nothing, I just uh...snapped my nail!"  
  
Dickinson looked unconcerned. "Do it more quietly then!" He replied before returning to the cash register. Leila glared at his back in outrage, she hated being treated as a "common woman" it irritated the hell out of her! She quickly hid the plate beneath the sink and, grumbling to herself, continued washing.  
  
She returned home late, Dickinson had found the plate after all, and chewed her out something dreadful, telling her that the next time something of the sort happened, she would be fired. Feeling sorry for herself, she stepped into the shower to relax for a while, the water was soothing, as was the soft music on the radio, and Leila lost herself for a bit with some more memories. About an hour later she stepped out again, looking refreshed, she resolved to quit the diner the next morning and go back to that blacksmith at the corner of Selan street, he had been nice...a little extra flirting and she was practically guaranteed a job there. Grinning, the former huntress dried her hair and slipped on some nightclothes, she was just going to brush her teeth, when the howling began.  
  
Borgoff felt absolutely miserable. Someone he had recognized had actually come to see him...and then left him alone again! It had been so nice to see a familiar face that it hadn't occurred to him that D must think he was just some awkward freak...that he was going to be ditched like that. Now he didn't have any one, Borgoff could feel himself dying slowly, his insides practically caving in, due to his lack of nourishment. He couldn't even stand anymore. He didn't even hear the footsteps as they came toward him, just jumped, slightly, in surprise as something was dropped onto his lap. It was a dead rabbit. The eldest Markus brother glanced up questioningly, and saw D, standing over him and looking as impassive as ever.  
  
"Eat it." D murmured quietly, sitting down slowly, so that he was on eye level with the vampire again. But Borgoff didn't, he just shoved the rabbit back at the Dunpeal and buried his face in his arms resolutely. D rolled his eyes, feeling irritated. He scooped the small furry mass back up, and once again, dumped it in the others lap. Again it was pushed away.  
  
"Don't you want to live?" D asked, feeling slightly irritated, it wasn't every day that he decided to be nice to someone for no good reason...he wasn't used to having his rare moments of kindness rejected.  
  
"I can't." Borgoff muttered, shifting a little so that he was turned a bit further away from the Dunpeal. "I don't want to damn myself thanks...things are bad enough as they are!"  
  
D slowly counted to ten, getting angry wasn't going to further the situation at all. "You won't be damning yourself..." D muttered. "You will only damn yourself if you murder something in cold blood. You didn't kill it, I did, now eat it." The rabbit was deposited, unceremoniously, in the former Markus's lap. Borgoff trembled slightly, he could smell the rabbit's blood and it made him feel strange, lightheaded. He snapped back to reality when he felt something sliding across his lips. Hurriedly, Borgoff raised his hand to his mouth, feeling the two long fangs that now protruded down almost to his chin. He felt horrified, and whimpered slightly, as D shoved the small furry body at him again.  
  
"Damn you..." Borgoff muttered angrily before the lightheaded feeling set in again. He wasn't even aware of sinking his fangs into the rabbit as far as they could go; he only knew that after about five minutes he felt a bit better. He felt the fangs retracting back into his upper jaw with revulsion, dear god...what had he just done? He looked up at D pitifully. "Why-?" He began, but the Dunpeal cut him off.  
  
"I'll come back tomorrow...stay here." With that he rose, and turned to leave, pausing for a second at the door. "You aren't like most...see that it doesn't change...or I will have to kill you." Then he was gone.  
  
"Oh, wow...that was real friendly..." Borgoff muttered ruefully as he stood, though he actually felt immensely grateful. He marveled at the speed with which his strength had returned, sure he still felt relatively weak, but compared to before... Sighing heavily, he stepped out of the tank and walked around the hillside cavern slowly, stretching his cramped muscles, and wondering what to do now. He could, technically, still hunt vampires...could only work at night but hey it was the same for them anyway. It'd be just like before...except now he wouldn't be paid, and couldn't associate with anyone, and couldn't make any friends... "Nothing like before at all..." He whispered, feeling depressed again, there was nothing to do for the time being except walk around and wait for the Dunpeal to come again tomorrow night.  
  
Borgoff decided to go outside for a bit, it was still a while before dawn, and he wanted to be out of the confinements of the cave. It felt nice to be out again, to see the stars and all...just wished he could still see day...oh well. Glancing up, Borgoff could see that the moon was full; it looked beautiful...maybe some stargazing would take his mind off of current events. He was just settling down to see if he could still spot the constellations Grove had shown him once, when he heard the howls...and the screams.  
  
Leila came racing out of her front door, wondering what in all hell could be making a noise like that. She turned a corner...and stopped dead. She remembered where she had heard a sound like that before...that barboroi...the one with black hair and lightning quick agility. A werewolf? She raced back inside and donned her hunters garb as quickly as possible, and thrusting her gun into the holster; she raced towards the sounds of screaming.  
  
It wasn't hard to find the place of current destruction; it was Dickinson's diner. Some lanterns had been knocked askew and the tables inside were already burning merrily. Leila shielded her eyes with her left hand, her right tightening around her gun, as she searched desperately for the monster...and it wasn't long coming. The front door splintered, and was then thrown aside with a resounding crash as it leapt from the flames. Roaring and snarling, it shoved itself erect and threw the figure that had been clinging to its back onto the ground. The werewolf was truly terrifying, twelve feet high, its muscles rippled beneath its auburn colored coat, and its muzzle full of glistening fangs had a maniacal grin plastered across it. It turned to the figure that had fallen to the ground...Dickinson. Leila closed her eyes for a second, knowing that it would be a lost cause to try and save her boss now, she instead used the time to slide to a better position, while the monster made short work of ripping Dickinson open and stewing his insides about.  
  
"Aim..." Leila whispered to herself as she trained her gun onto the werewolf's shoulder. "Steady...now!" She pulled the trigger. The monster reared up, screaming in pain as the bullet tore through its shoulder. It gave a loud roar of anger, before whirling around...and spotting Leila. "Oh..." She whispered, she hadn't for a second thought that it would be smart enough to figure out where the shot had come form! Quickly she aimed again, it leapt, and she fired. Fortunately, it was a good shot, the creature gave another scream of pain before tearing out of the town as fast as it possibly could, and racing off toward the hills in search of easier prey.  
  
The werewolf raced over the hard packed ground, that had been rough! But there! On the wind, the scent of another living creature! Giving a shriek of triumph, the werewolf streaked towards the caverns, flame colored fur streaming in the wake.  
  
Borgoff leapt up, looking around. The screaming, roaring sound was getting louder! The call echoed off the hills, making it impossible to figure out which direction the sound was coming from. The eldest Markus brother had just begun backing towards the entrance to the caverns when it hit him from the left. An enormous weight slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground gasping for air. He was not given time to regain his breath, the monster was on top of him in a matter of seconds. Borgoff cried out in terror, a werewolf!?! Shit! This was NOT what he needed! Being a vampire was bad enough, to be a vampire with lycanthrope would be a horror beyond the imagination! He managed to throw the flame colored creature off out of desperation, and made a mad dash back towards the entrance, hopefully to the tank...but it was not to be.  
  
He felt himself slammed to the ground again, and heard something crack, a few seconds later there was a horrendous pain in his right leg...broken. He yelped in agony as the beast carelessly flipped him over onto his back, causing his shattered limb to twist the wrong way. Waves of agony and terror cascaded through Borgoff's skull as the creature placed a taloned paw on his head, and pushed it back...baring his throat. Dear God! The creature wasn't just going to beat him and bite him! It was going to eat him! He writhed in a last desperate attempt to escape, but to no avail. The monster lowered its head and stared straight at Borgoff, gazing at him hungrily.  
  
Borgoff's frightened golden brown eyes locked with the monster's startlingly blue ones. The former Markus's look of horror was joined with one of complete confusion, as he stared up at the werewolf's triumphant features and managed to stammer one word. "K-Kyle?"


	4. Locations

Life's Mirage

I do not own VHD; B but I really wish that I did...

(Many thanks to my ever-increasing reviewers! You make-eth me so happy!)

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Strega: Thank you so much! Ah...that question. No D is not damned (Not automatically anyway). He is only half vampire so if he kills something with the desire to help another he's doing fine.

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Everything halted abruptly. Borgoff gasped, feeling dizzy and nearly hysterical, as the teeth stopped millimeters from his throat. The monster kept its jaws positioned there, seeming suddenly unsure about this intended meal. The oldest Markus swallowed, and tried again, a bit louder.

"Kyle?"

The flame colored monster pulled its head back and closed its large muzzle. Cocking its head on one side it stared down at him, luminescent blue eyes showing signs of bafflement. It kept a large paw firmly in place on Borgoff's chest, to insure that he didn't go anywhere, then bent over and sniffed him, only to pull back and look more confused than ever.

Borgoff could barely stop himself from screaming. His leg was on fire with pain, his air was almost completely cut off by the enormous paw that restrained his upper body, and this- this THING was responding to his little brothers name! What the hell?! He knew damn well that Kyle was dead, he'd watched him die then freaking buried him! Why did this monster have to look so much like him? ...Why did he THINK that it looked so much like him? Borgoff's thoughts were cut off by the alleviation of pressure; he choked and heaved a sigh of relief as the werewolf pulled its foreleg off of him. It sniffed its paw, then stood and walked around the broken looking man on the ground, snuffling in what seemed to be a precautionary way. Levering himself slowly, up onto one arm, the oldest Markus watched warily as the monster circled, until it finally stopped, near his head. The dark haired man cringed as the snout neared his face, but all it did was sniff him again. Snorting, it shook its head, and then stood on its hind legs, breathed deeply, and took off. Kicking up dust, it tore down the hillside, and off into the night.

Borgoff's mouth fell open in total surprise. "So that's IT?" He called after the rapidly diminishing form. "Now you're just gonna run away?!?" The pain from his leg hit him again, and he curled up whimpering for a while then, resignedly, began dragging himself back into the caverns.

D stared at the scuffed bloodstained earth in front of the caverns in total disbelief.

"See, what did I tell ya?" Left hand muttered smugly. "Didn't I tell you to kill him yesterday when it would have been easy? But oh no, you had to feed him, so he figured you must be all nicey-nice and that he could get away with anything!" D made no reply, as his appendage continued. "You just had to play 'good guy', and now someone's dead, I hope you're happy, Dunpeal." Still ignoring the continuous rant, D turned and headed inside.

Borgoff sat in the reclined drivers seat watching, partially out of curiosity and partially out of boredom, as his leg healed before his eyes. He grunted softly as the bone snapped back into the correct position, and the still tender flesh twisted with it.

"Damn, but that's helpful..." He muttered, again wishing that he had been able to perform that particular action when he had been human. He moved his leg slowly, wincing slightly, then whistled under his breath, feeling impressed. "That was fast..." He murmured, then glanced down at his watch. "Took eight hours, heh would've taken eight WEEKS before." He grinned slightly, then lapsed into silence. That werewolf was still bothering him...the way it had bolted, you would've thought it had recognized him or something, but-

The door of the tank slammed open abruptly. Caught completely off guard, the oldest Markus jumped nearly a foot in the air and whipped around, heart racing.

"D?" He asked, seeing the cloaked figure in the doorway. "Dear lord, don't scare me like that! I- huh?" His words were cut off as he was once again pinned against the wall by the Dunpeal's blade.

"Why did you do it?" D murmured, careful not to let any of his anger or disappointment show.

"Do WHAT?!?" Borgoff squeaked in a panic. He felt entirely lost, why on earth was D attacking him?

"Kill." The Dunpeal stated. D watched as Borgoff vainly attempted to protest. "The blood out front," The dark hunter continued. "Who was it? A passing traveler? A maiden from the village? Where did you hide the corpse?"

Borgoff felt near hysterics again. Where was the Dunpeal getting all of this? The blood out front? What-...oh.

He squirmed desperately and managed to shake his head, suggesting the negative to D's inquiries. Seeing the Dunpeal's expression didn't change, nor did his grip, the dark haired man tried one last thing, and gestured frantically to his left leg. D glanced down in the direction of the frenzied pointing, and noticed the gaping rips and tears in the fabric of the Markus' pants directly below the knee. Frowning, he relaxed his grip enough to allow the vampire to breathe properly.

"What happened?" He asked simply, in unhurried monotone.

"I got attacked by a freaking werewolf!" Borgoff nearly shrieked the answer, desperate to have the sword removed from his throat. He noticed the vague flicker of surprise that rushed across the Dunpeal's features at that answer, so he continued. "It came from the direction of the village, I swear! I didn't provoke it or anything, it just shot out of nowhere and damn near ATE me!!"

"Were you bitten?" D asked, sounding entirely unconcerned, he watched as the oldest Markus shook his head again. The sword was slowly removed and then sheathed. Borgoff collapsed backwards looking terrified and breathing heavily. "Stay here." The Dunpeal said softly before turning and exiting the tank. Too frightened to disobey, Borgoff remained where he was.

"So I was wrong for once..." Left hand muttered, sounding disappointed. "You should kill him anyway, D, you know."

"Be quiet." D murmured, bending down and retrieving the two rabbits that he had dropped upon seeing the blood. Straightening, he pivoted, and walked back inside. D entered the still open door of the tank silently, and watched his charge lie trembling on the floor, eyes closed.

Borgoff rubbed at his throat, feeling scared and offended, hadn't he made it clear last time that he would rather DIE than kill anyone? Apparently not... Sighing, the dark haired man glanced up, and nearly had a heart attack to find D looming ominously over him.

"C-can't you announce yourself or something!?" Borgoff cried feeling slightly angry. He received no reply from the Dunpeal, who just handed him the rabbits. After a very forced assertion of gratitude was expressed from the oldest Markus, D spoke.

"You said a werewolf attacked you?" He asked, sounding bored as was usual. Borgoff nodded. D abruptly stood and began to walk away. "I'm going to look for it," The Dunpeal called over his shoulder. "Stay here, I'll come back tomorrow or the day after." Then he was gone.

The dark haired man stared after the Dunpeal incredulously. This was the second near-death-experience he had been forced to endure in less than a day! "This really bites..." He muttered angrily, before staring down at the two small rabbits and feeling strangely light headed. "Damn this whole thing..."

"Now this is more like it!" Left hand said happily. "We can turn the werewolf in to Garuchia's Sheriff's department for some cash, instead of the vampire! Great, not a total loss then." D was thinking the same thing. Spotting the light impressions in the sand heading into the desert, D spurred his horse, and galloped off.

Leila grinned as she adjusted the sign hanging on the door of her new house. It read, _Leila; Huntress of vampiric creatures, and various monsters of the night._ She stepped back to admire it. Now she didn't have to get a job at all! The Sheriff's department had hired her on the spot, after the scene with the werewolf, to be the town's watch and protector. She was paid well and in full. Feeling the happiest she had in a week, Leila walked inside, twirling her gun and looking especially smug.

It was intensely gratifying to see that all of Garuchia's men followed her now. Asking if they could be of any service, or if they could help her around the house. Ha! As if. Just a few days ago they had all been laughing scornfully at the 'new girl in town' and now they were acting like love-struck wenches...go figure. Sighing, blissfully she set off for her new Jacuzzi; nothing in the world could possibly dampen THIS! No way!

Borgoff carelessly tossed the freshly drained rabbits into the tanks refrigerator. Seeing as he was unable to eat any of the meat himself he figured he would ask D if he could have any use for the bodies when he got back... Now he was bored... most decidedly so, not to mention lonely. There was just nothing to do. His body didn't seem to need sleep as often as it had before, and even though it was day he wasn't the least bit tired. Sighing heavily, he sat back in the driver's seat, pulled out a cigar and an old ragged book, and began searching through the glove compartment for his lighter.

D urged his horse to greater speeds. The tracks had become heavier, clearer than before, the werewolf must have changed back into its human shape and staggered on for a while. The tracks rounded a bend by the large outcrop of rocks and vanished down a small opening in between two boulders. After hitching his horse to a thin projected bit of granite, he bent down to inspect the gap. It went about eight feet down, and was very narrow for the first three feet, the small 'cave' then widened into a place large enough for a wolf pack to curl up in...let alone just one lost werewolf. Judging from the shadowy form hunched in the corner, that was exactly what the monster had done.

Silent as night, the Dunpeal entered the small space and dropped lightly next to the slumbering creature. Gazing down, he shifted noiselessly to the left, so that the sun streamed in to illuminate the prone form.

"No. Damn. Way." Left hand whispered in disbelief. "Not possible, it's just a trick of the light or something, kill it, D."

D didn't move.

"Can't you hear me?" The parasite hissed. "C'mon, stab it!" D continued to ignore his hand; instead he stared at the bright red hair, braid, and easily recognizable features of the man stretched out before him. The dark hunter shook his head. How many MORE of them were still alive?? Was he going to have to care for ALL of his previous adversaries? Feeling unsure, D bent down and took the other mans pulse and felt a strong steady beat, he was alive then...not a reanimated corpse. Hadn't this one died though? Yes, the description fit, Leila had stopped him on the way back to Garuchia so that she could put flowers on his grave...so how was he here now? Gingerly, the Dunpeal nudged the sleeping creature with the toe of his boot, and watched as the other groaned slightly and flipped over onto his stomach.

There they were, as he had expected. Long jagged scars, that ran from the red head's lower back up to the base of his skull, and a set of tooth marks embedded deep into the flesh of the abdomen. These must have been from that Barboroi... the Lycanthropic one with the symbiot in the shape of a large wolfs muzzle that would protrude from his lower body... It could easily have bitten in passing, while it sliced his torso apart. D contemplated these thoughts. Certainly sounded right so far... It had been a harvest moon that night, which would have caused the change.

"But why is he still alive...?" D murmured to himself, as Left hand scoffed sounding irritated.

"He was infected with the other werewolf's toxin, of course." It muttered impatiently. "Even though his human self was slaughtered, the venom will have tethered his soul to the body to keep it going at full moon. Don't you know anything about Lycanthrope, D?" D chose to ignore that comment as the parasite continued. "The harvest moon we had that night played itself the same as the full moon last night. When the light fell on his grave, it would have triggered the change and the self healing, in order for the body to coincide with the venom's sudden urge to kill."

D continued to stare down at the man on the floor, morals and duty fighting themselves out in his mind. Finally, heaving a sigh of resignation, D bent and placed his cloak over the other, before picking him up and carrying him back out. Placing the still unconscious form in front of him on the saddle, D mounted and started off, back to the caverns. Borgoff would have to deal with this on his own, the Dunpeal had had enough.

"I'm back." D said simply. Watching from the door of the tank as the oldest Markus gave a rather humorous shriek of alarm, before seeing the Dunpeal. Relief and anger warred on Borgoff's features for a few seconds before he slid back resignedly into the drivers seat.

"Why so soon?" He asked, attempting to sound casual as he retrieved his book from the floor where it had flown during his moment of fright.

"I have something to show you," The Dunpeal murmured. "Come and see."


End file.
